


a fantasy, taking over like a disease

by nouiszouis



Series: Monthshots! [6]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Airplane, Famous Harry, Fluff, M/M, Ordinary Louis, larry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 04:50:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1675331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nouiszouis/pseuds/nouiszouis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>louis is thirty and can't be bothered to enjoy a nine hour flight from la to london. he gets stuck sitting next to harry; a semi-famous twenty year old who's ability to make everything seem more enjoyable truly baffles louis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a fantasy, taking over like a disease

**Author's Note:**

> day six of 'monthshots'!
> 
> this was simply inspired by a picture of harry sitting in a plane cutting an apple.
> 
> the title is from the song 'paris' by magic man (you should listen to it, it's pretty good).

A nine hour flight from LA back to his home in London is the last thing Louis wants to do at seven in the morning on a Tuesday. In all honesty he’s just moping about not having had the chance to do any sightseeing, but it’s what he should’ve expected considering he’s just here for business and whatnot.

He’s waiting in the terminal right how, looking at his email and frowning at all of the work he’s still going to have to do tomorrow. Phone calls, documents, schedules; it all takes on the same meaning at some point and Louis reached that point by his twenty fourth birthday six years ago.

There’s not too many people walking around or talking and those who are are staying quiet enough so that they don’t draw attention to themselves which Louis silently thanks them for. All he wants to do is sleep as soon as he gets on the plane and he’ll do so whether he gets stuck next to some creep or a crying baby or not.

“Flight 613 to London is now boarding. Please show your tickets and passports to the instructed employee,” a soft female voice says from somewhere above his head.

Louis clicks his phone off and stands up, thankful that he at least gets the chance to lounge in sweatpants and a hoodie rather than the tight suits he’s had to wear for the past three days. There’s a bit of a line but it moves quickly and soon enough, a blonde woman is checking his information and letting him pass to board the plane.

He looks down at his ticket as he walks forward, trying to see which seat number he’s in so he doesn’t slow anything down in a minute. It says he’s in first class, seat 1C and he’s praying that means that he’ll be at the front where there’s two times more legroom than in any of the other rows.

Avoiding men stuffing bags into the carry-on sections above the aisle, he swiftly moves to the correct row, walking slowly and eyeing every number as he walks past. Eventually he finds the right number and sadly it’s not the row with the extra leg room. Surprising enough though, there’s someone already sitting in the seat by the window.

“Uh, hi? I thought I had both of these seats to myself,” Louis says carefully to the guy, trying not to seem bothersome.

He turns his head to look at Louis and raises his eyebrows in surprise as if he wasn’t expecting Louis either. “I’m in row one, seat 1B. Is this not the right row, because I can move if it’s not?”

Louis looks back up to double check and it is in fact row one. “Yeah, you’ve got the right row. I guess I just got told false information, sorry.”

The guy, who he now notices is actually quite young looking, nods and turns back to the window while Louis sets his bag down and situates himself in the seat. He let’s his eyes roam to the side to get a look at the person he’ll be sitting next to for another nine hours.

Without being too obvious, Louis tilts his head down and takes in what the boy’s wearing, not able to see his face without seeming creepy. He’s got on brown suede boots, skinny jeans that look to be made of spandex, and a few rings scattered across the fingers drumming on his leg. Louis doesn’t understand how he could possibly be expecting to be comfortable in the outfit, but he let’s it go and sits back up straight, looking around at the passengers and flight attendants still moseying about the plane. 

There’s no small children or sketchy looking people sitting in any near rows, so Louis takes that as a good sign. Also, there’s a small television screen attached to the back of the seats in front of him so at some point him and the skinny jeans boy can watch whatever terrible movies the airline has to choose from.

Finally the flight attendant starts speaking about safety hazards and what to do in emergency situations until the lights come on telling him to buckle his seatbelt. He reaches down to grab the belt but rather than the material he was looking for, his hand bumps into something of similar form.

Louis glances up and is met with green eyes and instantly looks back down, carefully maneuvering his hand to grab the belt and click it into place. He can see the boy still staring at him from the corner of his eye, but he brushes it off and clears his throat, relaxing back into the seat to wait for the plane to start moving.

“I’m Harry,” a deep voice says beside him. He turns his head to look at the boy, Harry apparently, who’s got a small smile painted on his face, made of unbearably pink lips.

“Louis,” he replies, returning the smile and nodding his head as a form of greeting.

Now that he can get a real view of Harry, he notes the bright, youthful looking face, tan skin that obviously must have soaked up tons of LA's rays, glimmering eyes, and curly hair stuffed under a skull printed headscarf. Quite an ironic mix, if he does say so himself. He’s very different from Louis though, who's got his hair messily pushed back and stubble covering his entire jaw.

“So what brings you to Los Angeles? Well, what _brought_ you here, since you’re leaving now,” Harry asks and he sounds genuinely interested rather than like he’s just making small talk for the fun of it.

“I had a business trip basically. Met with a bunch of music producers and high up people in some big record companies,” he answers, sighing. “Not a very fun trip, but hopefully it’ll be worth it in the end.”

“So you’re in the music business?” Harry asks and Louis nods his head in confirmation. “Surprised you’ve never heard of my name then. Well, not too surprised honestly, but I figured everyone knows everyone in the industry.”

Louis doesn’t understand what he’s trying to get at and knits his eyebrows together. “What are you talking about? How would I know your name?”

“I was a finalist on The X Factor last year,” Harry replies, his eyes glowing with either pride or remembrance. “I didn’t win, but you know, I got signed to a small label and I’ve played a few gigs around the UK and everything.”

“Oh, well I don’t keep up with all of those singing competition shows or whatever they’re called, and I’m not very involved in the whole music industry anyways. I’m actually just a grade B manager, working with a guy named Zayn Malik at the moment. Trying to get him signed and everything right now which was why I was here.”

Harry hums in understanding and sits back in his seat as the plane starts moving down the runway. He seems satisfied enough with Louis’ explanation and stays quiet, looking out the window, watching the ground blur and then suddenly lower.

“Why were you here, then?” Louis asks, his curiosity getting the better of him and preventing him from falling asleep just yet.

“I was recording and writing with some other artists. Group called Kodaline, if you’ve ever heard of them before.” Harry says it in a teasing way as if Louis is too out of the loop to know _any_ music artists out there, which isn’t true.

“Ah, I’ve heard of them. They’ve got good music, yeah,” Louis says. “So am I sitting next to a celebrity then? Should I get a picture with you or your autograph even though I’m probably two times your age and would probably seem really odd asking for either of them?”

He smiles to himself a little when Harry chuckles and bows his head, smiling down at his lap before looking back up with a dimple now firmly set in his left cheek. “I’m not sure if I’m at celebrity status yet, but I definitely wouldn’t object to getting a picture with you if the offers still up.”

It seems like it should feel weird talking to someone who's honestly got to only be about eighteen or so whereas Louis is thirty, but he brushes off the feeling and grins. Harry must take his expression as a sign meaning ‘the offer is still up’, because he pulls his phone from his extremely tight jeans - having to arch himself from the seat to get it out - and clicks it on, swiping up to open the camera.

“Ever taken a selfie?” Harry asks, situating the camera at an angle so that it’s got both of them in the shot.

“Yes I have but I usually don’t do anything with them,” Louis replies, pushing a hand back through his hair to make sure it looks decent for the picture.

“Well, you better do something with this one. Print it on a t-shirt and wear it around the city,” Harry says and they both laugh at it.

He orders Louis to get ready and counts down, pulling a cheesy smile into the camera while Louis smiles normally. It doesn’t seem to satisfy Harry though, as he reaches an arm across himself to grab Louis’ face and squish it, telling him to do something funny.

Louis gets the message quickly and pushes Harry’s large hand from his face with a soft laugh. He pulls his lips wide and tight and crosses his eyes, hoping that this face is good enough for Harry. Apparently it is, because Harry lowers the phone back down and looks back at the images, zooming in and pointing out funny things about them.

“Would you mind if I post these on Instagram? I’m sort of known for Instagramming everything and I’d really like my followers to see the cool guy that I met on a plane at seven in the morning,” Harry asks thoughtfully with a hint of hope in his voice.

“If people want to look at my disheveled self alongside your beautiful face, then so be it,” Louis shrugs, not being completely serious but not totally joking either.

Harry doesn’t seem to care either way and smiles at Louis excitedly, opening his phone again to do what he just asked permission for a moment ago. While he’s occupied, Louis feels the tiredness rushing back to him once again. He’s seconds away from passing out so he reaches down and pulls out the small pillow he stuffed in his backpack, placing it behind his head. 

The seats don’t go back very far and Louis doesn’t want to be that guy who inconveniences the person behind him by making himself comfortable, so he settles with sitting up and dozing away like this; uncomfortable but still a decent human being.

The quiet sounds of the planes engines and the thought of getting home fill Louis’ mind as he finally drifts off, taking one last look at the sun outlining Harry’s features before letting his eyes fall shut. 

-

It seems like hours later when Louis awakens again, but really it’s only been about forty five minutes. He’s got a major crick in his neck but surprisingly he’s warm and the space around him isn’t as light as it should be considering it’s around eight am now.

Blearily opening his eyes, Louis looks around at what surrounds him. The first thing he notes is that the shade has been pulled over the window, blocking the light and allowing dimness to take over. Next, he notices the large, white blanket that’s been laid out over him, covering him from his shoulders down to his knees. One thing he takes a bit longer to realize is that his head is no longer sitting against the headrest, but is resting on the same pillow as before, only to the side now.

It doesn’t take long for it to click in that he’s sleeping on Harry and the same boy must’ve been the one who asked for the blanket and covered Louis up. He wants to say thank you but he decides not to, if the soft snores coming from right beside his head are anything to go by.

He doesn’t feel right being taken care of by someone younger than him, but he’s not willing to give it up or deny any of the care, so instead he simply relaxes back into his place and shuts his eyes once again, ready to fall asleep and this time hopefully wake up much more closer to home.

-

“Goodmorning,” is the first thing Louis hears when he becomes conscious again.

His body feels much heavier than it did last time so he figures he must have definitely slept for another few hours. He opens his eyes and pulls his head up from where it's still rested on Harry's shoulder. 

The first thing he does is reach around the seat for his phone to check the time and convenient enough it's already been six hours on the flight. He let's out a long sigh and drags a hand down his face, trying to wash the drowsy feeling from his body.

"Good morning," he replies, pausing to clear his throat after words because his voice sound extremely gruff.

"I got two fruit cups and two cups of tea if you'd like either of those," Harry offers and Louis looks up, just noticing the tray pulled down and filled with the said items. "They just brought them out a few minutes ago so the tea should still be warm. I also don't know how you like it, or if you even do like it, so I got them to give me every kind of sugar and a little carton of milk."

Louis smiles thankfully and honestly wants to hug Harry for being so sweet. If he could place bets on anyone becoming famous, he'd go a all in for Harry because it doesn't seem possible that anyone could resist his charm.

"Thanks, I actually love tea," Louis says. He reaches out and pours two packets of sugar into it, no milk because it completely ruins the flavor in his opinion.

"No problem," Harry replies. 

He's already gotten himself situated so he digs right into the fruit, popping strawberries into his mouth like candy. Louis catches himself staring at the way Harry eats and softly snorts when the boy sticks his tongue out of his mouth at every bite like a lizard or a dog drinking water.

"Excuse me, is there something _amusing_ about the way I eat?" Harry asks, clearly feigning mock offense by pursing his lips together and looking at Louis incredulously.

"The tongue thing you do is pretty interesting, actually," Louis tells him as he brings the cup up to his lips and takes a long sip.

"Well, the way you hold your pinkie up is funny too," Harry points out and Louis has to physically look down at his hand to realize he's doing it.

"We both have our quirks then, hm," Louis laughs, Harry following shortly after.

Harry nods and continues on placing fruit into his mouth while Louis drinks his tea, trying desperately to control his pinkie from raising off the handle. The window beside Harry is open now, letting the sunlight flood in and dance across the area around them.

It reflects off the glass cups and paints itself on on both of their bodies. Louis finds himself looking once again at Harry's face where the light sits on his features making them seem softer than before which inevitably makes him seem even younger than he is. He really can't help himself from asking the question that's been on his mind all morning.

"How old are you?" He blurts out suddenly.

Harry doesn't look his way but does pause in between chewing on a slice of banana and a grape. "Turned 20 in February."

"Oh," is all Louis says because he was expecting eighteen or even sixteen to come out of his mouth.

"How about you? I can't seem to put an age on you because at one point you look thirty, but then you turn your head and you could easily be twenty three," Harry says.

Louis chuckles and shrugs. "You pretty much got it. I turned the big three oh back in December. My mind is still stuck in my early twenties though, I think."

"Do you take baths?" Harry asks randomly. "Sorry, in movies older people always seem to take baths and I mean, it's usually women but you never know."

" _No,_ I don't take baths. I'm not one who particularly enjoys resting in a tub of testicle tea for an hour or more," Louis says, scrunching his nose. "I'm not _that_ old either, alright."

Harry raises his hands in surrender. "Sorry, sorry. Just when you're only twenty it seems like anyone who's three years or more older than you is a walking fossil."

"I don't think I would put it exactly like that, but I'll give you it because I remember thinking the same thing when I was your age," Louis says thoughtfully.

"Well, you in particular aren't a walking fossil. You're too good looking to be pinned down to that generalization," Harry says and it catches Louis' attention.

"Good looking?" is all he can manage to say because his brain is sort of having a panic attack right now.

"'Course," Harry smiles and now Louis doesn't see him as innocent or young, but more of mischievous and too smart for his age.

They fall silent again after that because Louis still doesn't know what to say and he figures saying nothing at all would be the best option for the situation. He decides to open his fruit cup and eat some and it's great for airplane food, really fresh and sweet tasting. It goes great with the cup of tea.

Next to him, Harry is rummaging through his carry on bag for something. Louis is curious and nearly goes to ask but then Harry makes a satisfied humming noise and pulls out a brown leather book, wrapped in a burlap tie. It's got quotes and doodles and random shapes drawn all over it and it’s obvious that it’s some sort of journal.

Louis continues eating his fruit and finishes the last of his tea, now scrolling through his phone and sending texts out to an extremely inquisitive Zayn. He keeps asking Louis about what the people thought of his demo, whether they’re gonna sign him or not, how much money were they offering. Louis sighs and postpones the disappointing news until he sees Zayn in person; he’d hate to have to text him that none of the labels were interested in signing him right now.

“What’re you sighing about?” Harry suddenly asks, stopping his scrawling in the journal.

“Zayn, the guy I mentioned earlier, is asking me if any of the labels were interested and I’m just dreading telling him that none of them were. Again.” He knows Harry probably won’t understand considering he took the easy route and got signed through a tv show, but it’s still worth telling him.

“Oh,” Harry says with a frown. “That sucks.”

“It does, yeah,” Louis says with a fake, tight-lipped smile.

He goes back to playing with his phone when he hears Harry close his book and he speaks up again.

“Let’s get to know each other,” he proposes, clapping his hands together without actually making any sound.

“And how exactly do you propose we do that?” Louis asks him.

“A good old game of twenty questions,” he answers with a dimple-forming smile. “Or something like that.”

“Alright,” Louis agrees, nodding his head slowly. “So how do we do this?”

“I’ll ask you a question and you answer, then you’ll ask me a question and I’ll answer. It’s basically just a quick ice breaker where we each get to learn some things we’re curious about and tell some things that’ll help define who you are.” And that sounds very science-y for an ice breaker game.

He doesn’t object though and just shrugs in response, telling Harry to start the game already. They do start soon, after the flight attendant comes around to take up their cups from earlier. Once she’s gone, Harry wastes no time on the first question.

“Favorite band?”

“Uh, I guess either The Fray or maybe Two Door Cinema club if they count,” Louis answers hesitantly. “What place did you get on X Factor?” 

“Third. What’s a secret talent of yours?” Harry asks the questions like he’s been ready to know the answers for years rather than minutes or hours.

“Well, I can play the piano?” 

“That’s not a secret talent, Louis.”

“Fine, fine. I sing when I’m alone. What’s your full name?” He says the first part quickly and moves straight into the question, trying to avoid any requests for him to sing.

“I bet you sing beautifully and my name is Harry Edward Styles- no hairstyles jokes please,” Harry answers, casually throwing in the compliment.

“Wasn’t even thinking about it.”

“Good,” he says with a smile. “What’s _your_ full name?”

“Louis William Tomlinson,” Louis answers.

“Good god, you sound like a proper prince,” Harry boasts. “You aren’t of royal blood are you?”

“Hey, it’s my turn to ask a question, and just to soothe your curiosity, _no_ I’m not from anything even close to a royal family sadly,” Louis answers with a small grin. “What were you writing in your journal thing?”

Harry stops and glances down at the book in his lap, slowly moving a hand to cover it as if by second nature. “Lyrics,” is all he answers and it’s vague but Louis doesn’t feel like pressing on because it’s not his ground to tread. 

The game gets back into a steady flow and hell if they don’t go at least five times higher than twenty questions. It feels like time speeds up when they’re talking which is nice, but also a bit disappointing to Louis because he really enjoys getting to know Harry and his thoughts and his little quirks. It’s baffling that they only met this morning, a few hours back in time. 

Before he knows it they’re down to less than an hour left of the flight, both of them still having a flowing conversation that’s completely run off track from the original game they had started. It started when Harry went on about telling who some of his close friends are and eventually it became both of them sharing long, detailed stories of adventures or people or experiences they love.

So far, Louis has learned that Harry has one single out and is working on an ep, his friends are named Niall Horan and Liam Payne, he has a deep hatred for sherbert ice cream for some reason that he won’t explain, and he enjoys writing songs all the time, no matter where he is or who he’s with. It was one of the longer stories that occurred during their while of getting to know each other and Louis listened intently to every word, soaking it in and envying Harry’s ability to make everything seem wonderful.

“Are you single?” 

This question snaps Louis out of his daze and brings him right back into the real world where he’s sitting on a plane beside a semi-famous singer with a leg that’s tingling from a lack of blood circulation.

“Yes..” he says slowly, unsure of if he’s supposed to lie or tell the truth and wondering why Harry would even want to ask that question.

“Sorry, that was a little- yeah, just sorry,” Harry quickly says, shaking his head as if he’s disappointed in himself for letting it slip out.

“I mean, it’s fine I just. It’s fine. I’m not in a relationship, no,” Louis gets out, stumbling over the words and not understanding what he’s even saying until it’s out in the open.

“Awesome,” Harry says then shakes his head again. “I mean, it’s not awesome that you’re single, of course. I just use awesome generally. Like you replied and I didn’t know what to say so I said awesome. Does that make sense?”

He seems to be rambling and Louis can’t help but snort a little and reach out, placing his hand on Harry’s shoulder. The younger boy takes a breath in and let’s it out slowly, like Louis’ hand is threatening him. He glances down at the hand on his shoulder and Louis stared confused, going to pull it away until Harry reaches up and places a hand on top of his and smiles.

Neither of them say anything and Louis is too scared to try to pull his hand out from underneath Harry’s, so he leaves it there, looking at them and only sparing occasional glances up to Harry’s face. Eventually Harry let’s go and Louis slowly moves his hand back down, placing it on his thigh while Harry reaches up to fix the headscarf in his hair.

“The song I was writing is a duet, you know,” Harry says, looking up at Louis and biting on his bottom lip. 

“That’s nice,” Louis tells him. He’s not sure where Harry is going so he assumes that throwing out a compliment is his best bet at the moment.

“Yeah, well, I’m a solo artist,” Harry continues on. “Do you know anyone who maybe could record it with me? Someone who’s name starts with a Z?”

Louis’ eyes widen and he looks straight at Harry. “Are you serious? You want Zayn to do a track with you?”

“Yeah, he seems like a cool guy, I don’t see the harm in trying it out,” Harry shrugs, his lips slowly pulling upwards at the corners into a smile.

“Oh my god, that’s- oh my god, he’s going to be so happy,” Louis beams, smiling brightly. Without thinking about it, he reaches across the seat and pulls Harry into a hug, squeezing him tightly and pushing his face into his neck.

Harry returns the action, wrapping his arms around Louis and laughing. When he pulls back, he’s sure he looks like an idiot with a huge grin spread across his cheeks.

“Thank you so much,” Louis says meaningfully. “Seriously, this could really help him and he’s a really close friend of mine and that’s just _really_ cool of you.”

“No problem,” Harry returns.

“Also, sorry for the hug. I got a bit overjoyed and everything,” Louis says, laughing awkwardly and looking around.

Harry opens his mouth to say something but is interrupted by a voice above them.

“We will be landing in London shortly. Please fasten your seat belts and put up any food trays you may have down at the moment,” the man’s voice says sternly. “Also, thank you for flying with us today. We hope you enjoyed the experience.”

Both of them reach down to buckle their seat belts but continue looking at each other fondly. It really, really, _really_ doesn’t feel like they just met today. It seems impossible, but it’s true and it’s unbelievable. They don’t even seem to be ten year apart, but they are. It’s all just insane.

Harry is the first to look away, pulling his phone out and tapping at the screen. Louis sits and does nothing, just enjoying the last few minutes or so of the flight. That is, until there’s a phone being shoved in front of his face, making him wince at the brightness.

“Put your number in pleeease,” Harry sing songs, wiggling the phone around until Louis reaches up and takes it into his own hand.

He side eyes Harry but types in his number nevertheless, changing the contact name to _louis :)_ rather than the simple _Louis Tomlinson_ that Harry had typed in already. He makes sure it’s correct and hands it back to Harry, being nice enough not to push it in front of his face.

“You do know that I’m ten years older than you and I only gave you my number for the duet business, right?” Louis asks and his voice gives him away easily.

“But, of course,” Harry replies with just as much convincement in his voice. They both slightly grin knowingly at each other for a second.

The last few minutes are nothing more than the flight attendants making sure everythings good enough for the plane to land and people bustling about, packing up their belongings back into their carry ons. Louis himself puts his pillow back in the bag and nothing more since he didn’t take much out the whole time. Next to him, Harry puts back his journal and closes the bag’s flap properly.

When the plane finally lands and they allow the passengers to get off, Louis stands up and stretches, glad to finally get proper room for his legs. Harry must be more uncomfortable than him though, if the grimace on his face and the way he’s rubbing his crotch are anything to go by.

“Didn’t pee before or during the flight,” he explains without Louis even having to ask.

“Rookie move,” Louis teases with a menacing grin. He fails at ducking away from Harry’s slap and laughs when the hand hits him on the bicep.

The plane slowly empties and Louis can feel Harry’s steps behind him as he walks into the airport’s terminal. He knows this is where they’ll have to seperate, say a final goodbye and it’s sad. He knows it shouldn’t be, but it is anyways.

Harry comes up to him and stands, shuffling on his feet (to keep from peeing his pants, Louis assumes). He opens his arms wide and Louis takes it as enough of an invitation as any to move forward into them. They hold on to each other loosely for a few seconds before pulling back with smiles on their faces but sad looks in their eyes. 

“I had a great time with you today,” Harry says first. “Glad I got stuck next to you rather than anyone else.”

“Same and same,” Louis replies with a nod. “Also, I don’t think I ever properly thanked you for covering me and letting me sleep on your shoulder. So thanks.”

Harry’s face reddens a bit and he looks down at his boots. “Yeah, no problem. Didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“You’re a sweet boy, you know,” Louis notes.

“And you’re a wonderful man,” Harry replies with a look on his face that can only be defined as fond. “Now I hate to say this, but I think I’m going to pee my pants so.. bye, Louis Tomlinson.”

“Goodbye Harry Styles. I’ll be sure to like your picture on Instagram if you text me as soon as possible, all right?”

Harry let’s out a loud cackle and throws a hand up to cover his mouth, looking as if he’s trying to push it back in. When he lowers his hand he replies a, “Alright, sounds good.”

Then he’s walking away straight to the bathrooms, turning around once to smile one last time at Louis. And if Louis’ heart skips a beat and he sighs contentedly remembering everything that just happened, then no one has to know anything.

-

_(Harry does text Louis as soon as possible and it seems like just as quickly that they end up in some small, hot recording studio with Zayn, recording parts for the duet just like Harry promised._

_Four months later, the song may or may not rank number one on the UK charts and become something known as ‘the anthem of the year’._

_Days after the song is declared number one, Louis may ask Harry on a casual celebratory date and they might possibly make their way back to Louis’ place to continue on with their celebration._

_Who knows if they get voted hottest couple of the year the next year.)_

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! if you want to talk to me im strong on ao3, @kiiam on twitter, louwie on tumblr.
> 
> (also, feel free to put any prompts you want written down in the comments)


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